Again and Again
by Mad Hatter Usagi
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt transfers in to a college in the middle of nowhere for the new semester. He meets a girl on the first day of class that seems to know him somehow. Every night after that, Gilbert begins to have dreams about the girl, but they're set in different times. These dreams are actually memories from his past lives. A PruHun fic written for Cat-Stat-Ave.
1. Meeting Her

((I'm so sorry this took so long to get up. I was procrastinating for a really long time. This is for **Cat-Stat-Ave**, who requested this. It's going to end up a little different than we discussed, because that's how most of my stories go. I make a plan and it goes in a strange direction. I'm gonna try to stick to the plan as much as possible though. Please read and review, because reviews are love!))

* * *

Waking up on that first morning was nothing special, unlike the days that would follow. There was a strange feeling though, one that I tried to suppress as I went about my day. I felt like I was having deja-vu, but that doesn't really sum up the entire feeling. _Something important was going to happen today_, I thought as I got dressed in a pair of jeans, a red band t-shirt, and a black jacket. Although, ever since I had entered the campus, I had felt a strange something, but this feeling was different.

Well, thinking back on it, that shouldn't have surprised me so much. After all, it was the beginning of a new semester in college, and I had just transferred in. Well, really, my grandfather, Alaric, got sick of me partying so much back in the states and sent me out here, to the wilderness of Europe, to study in a calmer environment. Since it was such a good school, he sent my younger brother, Ludwig, along to watch over me and get a teaching degree.

I got a coffee and a muffin at the Starbucks, a recent addition to the ancient dining hall. There were only four food stalls in the entire place. One was traditional European food, one was McDonald's, one was Starbucks, and one was Panda Express. I hadn't tried the traditional place yet, but I could tell that it wasn't frequented as much as the other three. I had only been on campus for a week though.

I ran on to World History 101, a required class. I didn't really understand how history was going to help me with my art career, but I didn't have any say in it. Walking into class, that I was just barely in time for, I scanned the class for a free seat. The room was relatively small for the thirty-or-so people who were sitting at the desks, but high stained glass windows let in plenty of natural light.

You would think this place would have been a chapel in its earlier days, but it wasn't. This room, in the rather expansive estate that was now a school, had been a master bedroom. If you looked hard enough at the walls, you could see where a bureau, a canopy bed, paintings, and possibly a full-length mirror had been. The master of the house who had lived here, in the 1700s, had lived in this room until his early twenties. Where he dwelled until his death, which happened to be when he was only twenty-eight, no one knows.

I only knew this because the school had handed out pamphlets informing you about every classroom, or common room, you would be likely to be using that semester, and I was actually bored enough to read them. Somehow, the story was familiar to me though, and I felt there was much more behind it than the faculty knew.

Sitting down by one of the windows, I looked out across the grounds. I could see the edge of the woods from there, and a bit deeper if I strained my eyes. There, surrounded by trees, covered in vines, and deep in growth, was another building. On my first day, when I had asked a janitor what that building was, he had replied that it was a mystery to anyone. People had tried to investigate, but had been scared away by the "little folk", spirits that haunted the forest.

He wouldn't give me any more than that, sadly.

The door opened again, and I turned back, expecting the professor. Instead, I was greeted with a most beautiful sight. A girl with long tawny hair that was pulled back in a bun with a ribbon. She wore a green cotton dress that stopped at her knees, and a pair of brown flats. A messenger bag was slung over her shoulder.

Her gorgeous emerald eyes scanned the class, searching for a place to sit down. Her eyes locked on the desk next to mine, the only available seat, then flicked to look at me. She looked genuinely shocked, more than my unusual appearance usually does. The girl looked like she recognized me, but I hadn't been around campus that much, and I'd definitely remember meeting her.

She strode to the desk, then turned to me with questioning eyes. She looked slightly hopeful, for some unknown reason, as she asked, "Do you know me?"

Pausing to ponder her question, I decided my best course of action. I smiled charmingly up at her as I answered, "No, but I'd like to."

She sighed and sat down, "Never mind. I mistook you for someone else."

"I didn't think anyone looked like me," I said, frowning.

"Well, there is. Somewhere. I just have to keep looking, I guess." She turned away and fell silent.

I shrugged and turned back to the window, resuming my stare. That building, and what lied beyond was so painfully familiar that it gave me a headache. Yet, I was unable to look away. The beauty of the building, so empty and forgotten now, felt like it also applied to me. I didn't know why. I found myself ignoring every word that the professor uttered thence on, thinking of the little folk and that building.

When class ended, I stood immediately and left. Instead of heading to my next class, Advanced Color, I walked out to the edge of the woods. Staring at the building, several hundred yards away, I could swear I saw a figure glowing in the window, but it could have been a reflection from the setting sun.

"That building is off-limits." I turned quickly to see that beauty from class standing there, looking at me curiously.

"Why?"

"Apparently, when they were converting the estate into a school, anyone who tried to enter the building would end up hurt, or passing out on the spot. The workers who passed out would rave about spirits and how only the owner of the building could enter."

"Oh...that poor building," I muttered, looking over at it. To me, it seemed like it was just waiting for its owner to come back.

"What's your name? I'm sorry, I forgot to ask in class." The girl queried.

"Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt. And yours?"

The green-eyed girl smiled as she replied, "Elizabeta Hedervary."

Flicking my eyes back to the building, I said, "I'm going in there, you know. Tonight. I just feel like I have to."

"So, if you aren't back by tomorrow, I should tell the campus police to start looking?" She asked, a joking smile tugging at her lips.

I laughed, "Yeah, that'd be a good idea."

"Oh, and if you run into trouble, just call me." She pulled a Sharpie out of her messenger bag and grabbed my arm, scribbling down her digits. I blushed when she wasn't looking, because of her unchecked closeness, but the added color soon disappeared when I decided that it was comfortable being near her.

"What if the trouble is that I can't decide which pretty girl on campus I want to take out to dinner first? Should I call you then, to see if you would like to go?" I asked, before I lost my nerve.

Elizabeta's cheeks turned red and she looked speechless for a minute. She looked like she was trying to decide whether to slap me or not. Then, she grinned and replied, "Only if I'm the first you call," before she turned and walked away.

I stared at the corner of the main building that she disappeared around for a full five minutes before I walked on to my class. _'Wow, that's a girl you don't see every day.'_ I thought. Elizabeta Hedervary would be mine.


	2. The Building

I stood at the edge of the woods, a five minutes to midnight, and stared in at the dilapidated building. The familiar house was supposed to be barely visible in the dark, but the moon was shining uncharacteristically bright, and the flashlight he had brought had a huge bulb. I pulled out my cell and shoved my sleeve up to see the digits that Elizabeta had scrawled on my arm hours earlier. I quickly saved it as a contact before calling, hearing the phone ring thrice before the pick up.

"Hello?"

"So I'm here."

A miffed sort of giggle came over the receiver as she said, "Oh, so I don't get a hello, Gilbert?"

"Hello Liz," I responded, a grin spreading across my face. "You're acting like you weren't waiting by the phone, bored to death because you weren't talking to the awesome me."

"So familiar already, Gilly dear?" She teased, and I felt heat creep into my face.

"Anyway, I'm at the house," I diverted.

"Aw, and here I thought maybe you were calling to ask me about that dinner date. Poo." She fake pouted.

"Well, how about tomorrow night then?" The question was out of my mouth before I had time to think about it. She was just so light-hearted on the phone, so I thought that I might have a chance. It was strange for me to completely focused on just one girl like that, but she mattered in a way that no other did.

One part of me wanted to drag her to my apartment and lock her there. No one but me would be able to meet this beauty, this goddess that now occupied my thoughts. No one could treat her well, but me, and we could be together forever. Another part wanted to shout and laugh and run with her in open fields. To present her to the world and explain every single thing about this girl that I barely knew, everything that I loved. Yet another part wanted to tease her and make her cry. To see beautiful crystalline tears run down her face, or the more probable outcome of her teasing and yelling back at me.

"Th-the dinner date?" She queried.

"What else? I did say that I was going to call a pretty girl on campus and ask her to dinner, didn't I?"

"And I said that I'd only agree if I was the first you would call. So, am I the first?"

"Who else would I call? You're the only girl whose awesomeness is anywhere close to mine." In my mind though, I knew that she outranked me, and she was the only girl to ever do that.

"Yes, I'll go out with you, Gil." As she said that, my grin widened further. Then she changed subjects, "So, you're at the house?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd call you first."

"Go on in! I wanna hear about the inside tomorrow! Or your failure, which will be just as interesting," Liz jested.

"Oi! Shut it, I'm not gonna fail. Awesomeness doesn't fail. It's a fact."

"Whatever. See you tomorrow, Gil!"

"See ya!" I called into the phone before clicking the "end call" button. Stuffing the phone into my pocket, I took my first steps toward the woods.

The forest was surprisingly easy to get through since there were vines and thorns clinging to everything. I clawed my way to the door and pushed hard on the wooden entrance, barely making it budge enough for me to squeeze through. Once inside, I began coughing at the incredibly stuffy, dusty air. Everything, even the ivy and vines that had somehow crept in, was covered in filth. Everything looked like it had just suddenly been left there, like everyone who had ever occupied the building had suddenly dropped everything and left.

Walking down the hall, I felt like someone was watching me. I heard faint footsteps, like those of a child, yet lighter. My own steps felt clumsy and loud in my ears, but that was only because of the high ceilings that made every sound echo across the building. The hallways were long and mainly empty, but dried roots and vines clung to the baseboard.

I opened one of the doors and found myself in a study. One wall was just bookshelves filled with thousands of volumes. The desk was parallel to the shelves, and above the desk was a portrait of a man. The man looked just like me in every single way, down to his pale skin, platinum blonde hair, and scarlet eyes. He was dressed in clothes from a very long time ago, so I guessed he must have been the master.

Several papers still littered the desk, although they were caked with dust. I brushed it away until I could read the fragile paper underneath. It was a letter, and it looked something like this:

_July 27, 1723_

_Dearest Elizabeta,_

_I fear this may be the last time I may send you a letter. My health is woeful and fading fast. The doctors came again the day before last, trying various futile treatments. I know I shall die soon, there is no doubt in my mind. However my family and friends insist on lying about it, whether for me, or for themselves. I know you do not want to hear it, just like the others. But you must hear this, you must get it through your thick skull that I am sick, and there's simply no getting better._

_Consumption has no cure. It is so simple. I am never getting better, and I lost that hope as soon as I received the diagnosis. I know that this place will be disinfected and deserted as soon as I am dead, so it is not like I wish to linger here._

_My cough has worsened since you last saw me. Blood now comes with almost every cough, which has led me to rewriting this letter seven times already. The fatigue keeps me from convincing the nurse to wheel me into my study on most occasions, so I am mainly confined to my bed. I weigh 22 1/2 kilograms less than before, and I have not eaten anything in a week. I fear my appetite will not return, which must surprise you since I seem to remember you comparing me to a sink hole, a pig, and anyone who lives in the British Colonies._

_My sleep has been hard to come by recently. My coughing keeps me up often, but there is also the night sweats and chills. The two paired together leave a lasting impression. Sadly, whilst the pain in my chest keeps me awake, I have too much time to think of my life before this building. Thinking too much hurts me more than this dreaded disease. Being in this quarantine, away from you and my other friends hurts most._

_I feel like a sap writing this, Lizzie. I do not enjoy being so incredibly different from how I used to be. I wish I could act like before, but this has made me change in so many ways. It's made me want to tell you so much that I never did before. So I decided I would briefly tell you all I could. _

_When my parents announced my engagement to Michelle, I was disappointed. Michelle is a nice girl, but she is not for me and never would have been. We would have been the worst match in the history of our world! So, on the day of my wedding, I was secretly happy when I collapsed at the altar, though I would not have admitted it to anyone. I did not, and still do not wish to be married to someone I do not love when I die. I would rather be a bachelor, or married to someone whom I do love. Like you, Elizabeta._

_I have been in love with you since we met, and I never once got the chance to tell you. Even after that time in the glass garden, when everything happened so fast. My mind has been on this for so long, whether or not to tell you, and I decided that this would be the best way to tell you. I am not going to last much longer anyway, so I might as well get this out of the way. Now I can die with an easy conscience._

_If you are going to tell me that you see me as only a friend, as I believe you will, please do not respond. It's not that I want to end our friendship, but I wish to preserve what we were. I do not want to lay on my death-bed lamenting over my unrequited love._

_Love, Gilbert_

I stared down at the completed letter, my fingers trembling slightly. I could just imagine Elizabeta, my Elizabeta, in an 18th century dress. She would be fussy, and would hate being confined like that, I could feel it. She would wear it though, just as she must. Backing away from the desk, I left the room. My unease was suddenly enhanced to fear when I heard giggling behind me.

I turned quickly, in time to see a pair of short, possibly a foot high, humanoid figures retreating down the hall. They were running like Olympic sprinters. The figures were glowing white and their heads were too big for their bodies, just like an American novelty. Not knowing why, I took off after them. Several turns later, I glimpsed them slipping through the tall door, not doorway, at the end of a long hall.

I pried the door open warily, grunting from exertion. After slipping inside, I allowed myself to look around carefully. A large canopy bed with navy curtains that matched those on the window stood opposite to the fireplace. A wardrobe was next to the window, one of the doors was ajar.

A taller figure, about an inch or two taller than me and with proper proportions, stood with it's hands clasped behind it's back and turned so it was facing the window. It was standing by the mantle, by a nonexistent fire. The two smaller figures were sitting in the chairs that sat adjacent to the fireplace, and they weren't alone. Thirty or so of the smaller figures sat on the ground by the larger's feet.

The taller figure turned slowly to me as all of the shorter ones stood. The shorter ones began to dance and jump up and down in a rhythm. I wasn't sure if it was their jumping, or the beating of my heart that was making the loud, steady noise in my ears. The tall figure giggled eerily before rushing at me.

Everything went white before it went black, and in the darkness I heard a hoarse whisper of a voice say, "Remember." Then I was unconscious.


	3. First Dream

_April 3, 1723_

_I love you, I thought, as we sat under that tree. I wished that _

_We used to come here every day when we were younger and have picnics and climb those limbs until our fingers hurt. I miss those days. I know you don't though, as I sat under that tree. You weren't looking at me, as you had in those days. You were looking into the distance with a smile that said you had a secret you couldn't wait to tell. And that secret was going to steal you away from me. _

_It hurt, but I could deal with it as long as you were smiling. I knew my foolish hopes, my silly ideas of my love being returned, were all for naught. You weren't meant to be mine. So when you finally looked at me and spoke, I steeled myself and smiled like I was happy for you. _

_"I'm engaged, Gil. To Roderich Edelstein, your cousin. We'll be family, Gil," you said with that oblivious smile of yours. You didn't understand that you had just broken my heart, but it didn't matter._

_"That's good, Elizabeta. He'll be good to you," I said, looking up at the canopy above us, nodding slightly. There was so much life there, in the leaves and branches and vines. I couldn't even imagine._

_You nodded, looking instead at the ground, "Yes, he will. He's the best match for me."_

_My heart clenched, but I simply continued our nodding game. We looked like a pair of stupid birds. We weren't quite the pair we were years ago, when you and I wore the same expression. Now, you smiled in your distant way, looking toward your future with my cousin. I, on the other hand, was lost. You didn't see._

* * *

_April 14, 1723_

_When my mother told me the news, I thought I might split in two. Her and my father had been making deals without my consent. I am to be engaged to Francis's little sister. I hold nothing against the girl, she's a fine woman and would make most men happy. I hold nothing against Francis, who is and always will be my friend. I hold nothing against my parents, who are only looking to make me happy and presentable._

_I hate myself. It's been eleven days now, since my dreams were shattered. I've always picked myself up rather quickly, but now it's different. I want to move on now, but my heart is still with you, Elizabeta. In fact, it's always been with you. It was you who gave me this journal to write in, telling me that if I wrote to you, it wouldn't be so awkward. It'd be like we always were, how I'd tell you my secrets and you'd keep them._

_So I'm to marry Michelle. She's a pretty girl, with her dark hair and eyes, but her skin is a bit tan for my taste. She's excitable and petite, unlike you. I don't know what to do with her._

_Our wedding is going to be sometime in June. I'm going to be married. I feel like I'm lying to myself, but not really. _

_All I know is that I want to tell the real Elizabeta. Not my feelings, just that I want her to come to the wedding._

* * *

_April 28, 1723_

_Today you came to visit and bring your own wedding invitation, hanging on to Roderich's every word, not to mention his arm. I bet you were surprised when my mother giggled like a gossip and announced that I was engaged. You and Roddy sure looked surprised. You two stared at me with questioning eyes, wondering why I didn't tell you._

_I looked away, toward our other guest, Michelle. My mother told you how well we had been getting on, and how we were really the best match. It's true, we have been getting along well. She's a sweet girl, open-minded and talkative once you get to know her. _

_To tell the truth, the very first day we were out in the garden together we admitted to each other that we loved another. We agreed that we'd be good to each other and act like the perfect couple for watchful eyes, but we wouldn't truly pursue each other if we were sure that our hearts still belonged to others. She agreed to sleep in my bed, to be my friend, and even have my child. I agreed to never lay a hand on her that wasn't welcome, never overstep my boundaries, and allow her to go where she wants. Michelle is a good girl._

_So later on, you and I had the chance to speak alone. You immediately asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were engaged."_

_"I haven't been for very long," I answered her. "It was announced only a fortnight ago."_

_You scowled at me, as unladylike as you used to be, "You could have sent me a letter, Gil. I thought we were friends."_

_I couldn't speak to you, couldn't look at you. Thank God that Michelle came and introduced herself to you. I didn't realize that the two of you hadn't met, but I would guess that it's because you were never fond of Francis. I didn't allow myself to speak to you again today._

_I was ashamed, don't you see? Because my dream has no possibility at all now. Because I can not be honest to you without breaking my own heart. Because seeing you with Roderich is so painful, and I was hoping to see you hurt the way I do. I'm ashamed because I'm pathetic._

* * *

_May 9, 1723_

_Not much to say today, besides the fact that the tailors have begun taking Michelle's and my own measurements for our wedding clothes. Michelle's tailor was a little shop girl who seemed to be around ten years old. Mine was an older man, and he kept coughing and trying to cover his mouth._

* * *

_May 21, 1723_

_I think that tailor may have given me a cold. I've been feeling bad for a little while. He was around for days too, taking measurements and talking about styles with me. I cough every once in a while and my chest feels tight. I hope I'm okay._

_You haven't spoken to me, Elizabeta. It's been a month, and you haven't come here. Your wedding is in August. You said you wanted to be able to enjoy the ending of summer or something. I don't really remember anymore. Roderich wants me as a best man, he told me, he thought it would make you happy. Instead it made you even more distant. He's too much of a gentleman to revoke my title though._

* * *

_June 3, 1723_

_I do not feel well at all, so I won't write much. I don't know if it's because I'm not looking forward to my wedding, or if I'm ill. Tomorrow is my "big day," but I wish it wasn't._

* * *

June 7, 1723

_This all started on my wedding day. Francis, Antonio, and Roderich all assured me I was fine, and that it was just stress, but I felt terrible. I can't remember much, because I hit my head when I fainted, but I remember up to where Michelle and I were each at the altar. Apparently that was when my sickness really hit me. _

_I started coughing and wheezing really bad, and soon I was out. They called in a doctor, and I was diagnosed with Consumption after a little while. They moved me and all of my things out to my family's guest house in the following days. I'm confined here, just until I'm cured. _

_I have a single butler and a single nurse that have proved to be resistant to the illness. They will deliver my food, help me with daily life, and pass on my messages so I can talk to those outside these walls. I hope I may see you again, but I doubt I will be able to be the best man in your wedding._

_I'm feeling bad, I think I'll go back to bed now._

* * *

_June 30, 1723_

_Today I heard the doctor talking to my butler about my condition. He says I won't last too much longer, and I have to agree. I've been coughing more often, and I've lost a lot of weight. I am in pain often. Elizabeta, I'm afraid to die. I wrote you a letter the other day, telling you I was fine, but I lied. I've lied in every letter I've written anyone here. I will call this the Lying House._

_I've written enough, it's time for sleep._

* * *

_July 4, 1723_

_I received a letter from you today. Here, I'll paste a part for you._

_Dearest Gilbert,_

_Now that you're sick, I don't know what to do with myself. I find myself crying a lot for reasons unknown to me. All I know is that you're always on my mind. My heart hurts knowing that it's going to be a while until I see you. Rest assured, Roderich and I are postponing our wedding until you can come._

_Gilbert, what is it that you do to me? You were the best friend anyone could ask for. Then my head started to feel addled when you came near, so I started to shift away. I liked the addling, I now realize._

_Do you truly love Michelle? She worries over you, so you two must have been close. I don't want you to love her, but I don't know why. Help me, Gil, what is wrong with my head?_

_With love,_

_Elizabeta_

_I think you were feeling love, because that's the sort of feelings I had around you. I think I'm getting my hopes up._

* * *

_July 19, 1723_

_I am going to die. I've realized this. I'm so thin, and now I cough up blood. I'm simply not hungry anymore. It hurts to be alive, so I await death. I worry what my death will mean for my friends and family, but I want it to come so badly. _

_This truly is a House of Lies, since I have been lying to myself this entire time. I am not going to live. There is no cure, so I am just waiting out my life in a fancy cage._

* * *

_July 28, 1723_

_I feel it, today I am to die. Goodb_

* * *

**((Now, you may be wondering what the heck you just read. This really is the chapter. I wrote it in journal entries for the hell of it, hopefully it's understandable. Review or PM with questions! Bye the way guys! I'm going to Colossalcon!))**


	4. Wake Up Call

My ringtone woke me from my sleep, shattering my world. When I tried to grip my dream though, it stayed with me, enabling me to remember every single moment of it. I didn't understand though. Why the hell was that my dream? Did I put myself into the place of the man from the house, or was I him, or was it something else?

Looking around in the brightness of mid-morning, I realized something, I had slept in the canopy bed from the master bedroom. Grossed out, I hopped out of bed and placed distance between me and the bed. I stared at the place I had slept, wondering how I had made it the several yards from the door to the bed, and what happened after that thing came at me.

Finally I dug my phone out of my pocket and looked at the caller ID. Elizabeta. I smiled as I answered, "Good morning, Liz."

"Good morning, Gil. Why weren't you in class today?" She sounded slightly distressed, or a little pouty. Either way it was cute.

Thinking about it, I didn't think telling her about the figures I saw would be a good idea. It would probably make me look like a crazy person. "I accidentally fell asleep in the house."

"Are you still there?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah, actually, you just woke me up."

"Meet me at the edge of the woods, I'll bring coffee, okay? You have to tell me about it in person," Elizabeta said before I could say anything else, then hung up. I was a little worried about my disshelved appearance, and the fact that I smelled a little musty from sleeping in a dead man's bed.

On my way out, I took a couple of pictures with my phone in passing. I stopped at the large portrait in the study and made sure it was a quality picture. As I looked around the study one last time, I saw an open letter hanging out of the desk drawer. Curious as I was, I pulled it out. It was addressed from the past Elizabeta to the past Gilbert, so I opened it.

_Dear Gilbert,_

_It will be a while until I'm able to see you, so I've decided to begin correspondence with you. Send me a letter back when you have the chance, okay? Here are a few things to remember me by. I made that handkerchief when I was younger, so don't make fun of me. I'll admit that I thought you were going to be the man I married back then._

_With Love, Elizabeta_

The items tumbled out of the envelope soon after I had read that. A small artist's sketch of her, a girl who looked remarkably the same as my Elizabeta. It was drawn on yellowed paper with what looked like ink, not a pencil. After that came a grassy green ribbon that I remembered from my dream. She had worn it on the day she had admitted her engagement. Lastly there was a handkerchief embroidered with EH and GB in the corner, surrounded by a pink heart.

I was feeling more than a little creeped out as I shoved all of it, including the letter, into my pockets. Ever so quickly I left the house and made my way back to the edge of the woods where Elizabeta sat with two cups of coffee. She wore a pink t-shirt, a white cardigan, and a pair of distressed jean capris. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail with a pair of wildflowers tucked behind her ear, making her neck open. I had the urge to sit down beside her, pull her into my lap, and kiss her neck.

I didn't. Instead I sat down in front of her, accepted my coffee, and ran my fingers through my hair. I smiled at her, watching her face light up as I did, and sipped my drink. It was warm, and sweet, and pretty good.

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she began speaking, making me give her all of my focus, "So, what did you see?"

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my pictures, letting her see each one. She was beyond interested in the pictures and actually gasped when she saw the portrait of the past Gilbert. "That was the guy who lived there?"

"Yeah, and his name was Gilbert Beilshcmidt too. One of his friend's names was Elizabeta," I laughed, like it didn't mean a thing, but my heart had suddenly sunk to the pit of my stomach. That's right, all they were was friends, nothing more. For some reason it was like heartbreak for me.

"Really? That's...wow..." She stared at the portrait, gripping my phone tightly.

"Is something wrong, Liz?" I asked, moving a little closer.

She looked up at me, our faces inches apart. It was like a wave of silence and unease passed over us, but it was soon gone and she dismissed the picture readily. Handing my phone back, she smiled and asked, "So where are you taking me tonight?"

I hadn't really thought about it, but I didn't want to disappoint, so I thought quickly. I had heard a lot about this restaurant in town when I was in the dining hall, that would do. "How about that new French place?"

"I'll text you where my dorm is. Okay, pick me up at six?" She asked, to which I nodded. I watched her walk with a skip in her step all the way back to the main building. I stood and went back to my dorm to get a shower and some proper sleep, because for some reason I was still tired. I woke hours later to find a text in my inbox and I had an hour to get ready.

I dressed in a pair of dark dress pants and a white collared shirt, a red tie hung around my neck. I jumped in my car, a red convertible, and drove to the other side of campus to Elizabeta's dorm. I entered the dorm building and searched for her room, which happened to be in the back on the third floor. I knocked and waited for her to open up.

She opened the door, revealing a little black dress that was cut halfway down her thigh. It was spaghetti strapped and hugged her every curve. The mere sight of her made me want to drop to my knees with intense lust, but I managed to stay on my feet and keep most of my pride. She noticed my staring and blushed, turning the revealed skin pink.

"Uh, hey Gil."

"You ready to go?"

"Yup, just let me get my purse, okay?" She turned, showing me that the back had a draped dip in it that exposed most of her back. She had a tattoo on her shoulder, in loopy, spider silk thin font she had written, "I will wait forever if I must, my love. If only we may meet again," in German. Those words sounded so familiar, maybe from a movie?

Elizabeta returned with a red clutch, walking with him to his car. She looked antsy and cute, but at the same time confident and sexy. I opened the door for her, and she joked about me being the perfect gentleman. We made small talk as I drove, laughing the whole way.

When we got there I helped her out of the car and walked in. Thankfully it wasn't busy and we were able to get seated pretty quickly. The date went by quickly. It was full of laughter, smiles, and discreet glances at each other when we thought the other wasn't looking. When the night was over, I walked her to her dorm room.

"Thanks for tonight, Gil. It was fun," Elizabeta said, fiddling with her purse nervously.

"It was, I'll be sure to ask you again sometime," I said.

"Well, goodnight."

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss before you go?" I asked teasingly, positive she was going to laugh and say goodbye again.

Instead she turned quickly and planted a kiss on my lips. I have to admit my brain lapsed during this time, so I'm not sure exactly what she did. All I know was that when I got back to my car after saying farewell for real, my mouth was smudged with lipstick, my hair was a wreck, and my shirt was rumpled. It was nice, and I drove back to my dorm with a smile.


	5. Second Dream

When I let myself into my dorm, I felt exhausted. Before falling into bed, I grabbed the things I took from the house and sat them on my counter. I wrapped the letter in the ribbon, tying it into a bow, put the handkerchief on my night stand, and tacked the drawing to my wall by the TV. As soon as that was done, I found myself curling up on my bed and slipping into sleep.

* * *

_"Hey! '...'! Wait for me!" I yelled, running after my friend. I couldn't remember his name, but he'd been my friend since I began working as a Teutonic Knight._

_The other man, with his shoulder-length light-brown colored hair and emerald-green eyes, turned around and waited impatiently. "Come on, '...'! I can't tell you my secret until we get to the tree!"_

_That's strange, I saw his lips move when he said my name, but I couldn't hear it. _

_We walked on to our tree. It was the largest tree in the forest, and it was definitely old. It's roots stretched out to almost half the forest, and if you watched for their thickening, you could find your way their easily enough from anywhere in the woods. I climbed over fallen logs and dense brush, watching his slender build make his own way._

_Finally, we sat under the branches of the giant thing. He twitched and shifted nervously, which was a very rare sight for him. His skin-tight breeches and white tunic, emblazoned with the Teutonic coat of arms, lay under our practice armor, just as mine did, except different somehow. He was always different in some way. _

_"Um...I probably shouldn't have kept this from you for so long, '...', but you have to understand, I didn't know if I could trust you to keep it."_

_"Out with it already!"_

_"I'm a woman," they squeaked, watching for my reaction._

_I was completely blown away. There were always signs, of course, but I don't think I ever would have realized if he- no, __**she **__didn't say. Her eyes were on me, waiting for me to hate her, but I couldn't. I thought she was brave, an amazing swordsman, and overall just nice to be around._

_"Okay," I answered._

_"You don't have a problem with that?" Her hands gripped her tunic tightly, ready to fight me to understand._

_"No, it's fine. You're still my friend, '...'."_

_Her face broke into a grin as she said, "Good... __**Good.**__"_

* * *

_"'...'! Don't ignore me! Come back here!" I yelled, dashing after her._

_"Just shut up! I wouldn't have even told you if I knew you were going to act like this!" She yelled._

_"I can't protect you if you're in another guard! Ask to be transferred!" I yelled back, turning her around so that we were almost nose to nose._

_"I don't need to be protected, '...'. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself, I always have been. Just because I'm a __**girl**__, you-"_

_"It's not because you're a girl, you idiot! It's because I love you!" I said quietly, making her instantly silent. "I know very well that you're strong and clever and a much better fighter than I am...but I want to be __**near**__ you, always..." I whispered._

_She bit her lip, looking like she was going to cry as she said, "Oh, '...', why didn't you tell me?"_

_"Because I wasn't sure what it was, before. I thought I might be crazy, for a while...and then you told me you were a woman and I didn't want to ruin your trust..." I answered, staring into her eyes._

_"I love you, too. You're the only man I've ever felt this way about..."_

_I grinned, closing that small distance between us to kiss her. It was small, chaste, and short, but it got the point across. We would always love each other, no matter what happened or got between us. She smiled back at me, her true girlish features shining through in one of the rare moments that only I ever got to see._

_"I'm not going to transfer, they need me where they're sending me."_

_"I knew you wouldn't," I muttered._

_"We'll see each other again, when we get back," she said, reassuringly._

_"I will wait forever if I must, my love. If only we may meet again," I whispered, kissing her cheek._

_"We will meet again," she said, trying to convince herself this time. _

_"Do not worry, '...', we will."_

* * *

_"No. No. No. No!" I cried, dashing away from the rest of the guard. We had returned home, finally, after all that time away. But she wasn't there. There was a letter waiting for me though, from the leader of her guard offering his condolences since he knew we were friends._

_I hated him. I hated the knights. I hated everything! The only place we could meet now was heaven, and it could be years until I made it there. My feet carried me farther and farther until I found myself at the foot of our tree. Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I remembered how she had beaten me up, or bandaged my injuries, or helped me learn sword techniques._

_She was dead at the hand of a Cuman knight. A knight that had been killed right after he had cut her down. A knight I would never get to kill myself. I had no purpose without her, none at all. She was the light in my war-ravaged life, but not anymore. My love was dead._

_The knife that had been strapped to my thigh was suddenly in my hand. I didn't even think of it as a conscious decision as I slit my wrists, allowing my crimson blood, the same color as my eyes, to slide off my skin and onto the ground. I was going to follow my love into death. I could only hope that I was going to heaven, rather than hell. '...' would definitely be in heaven though, since she was my angel._

* * *

_The dream faded out until the spirit from the house remained. It spoke, it's voice sounding like millions, layered into one, instead of just a single voice. "Remember," it whispered, before disappearing and the dream slipped away._


	6. A Delightful Lunch

((Sorry this took a while, I just haven't felt like writing recently. I've been going through some stuff. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! Please review!))

* * *

I snapped out of my dream, my eyes fluttering open to stare at the wall that was flush with my bed. My heart beat fast as the gory details of my dream death flew back to me. Moving suddenly, I cracked my head on the wall. Pain clouded my vision as my hand gripped my forehead. Sitting up, I swore loudly and more like a sailor than I ever have before.

The girl in my dream, with her beautiful green eyes and soft brown hair that had been mousey and messy from hard work and long months outdoors. That girl, who had captivated me, a knight. That girl, that wonderful, gorgeous, imposter of a soldier. She was Elizabeta. She was the dead one, belonging to the other Gilbert. She was my Elizabeta, the one that made my heart go warm and my brain fuzzy.

Who was she really though? That question made me stand in the dark and pace my dorm over and over. I saw the blue moonlight coat me as I moved, squared off by window panes, rising and falling against my pale skin. Glancing at the clock momentarily, I noticed that it was three in the morning, and I didn't have to be up for at least five hours. I didn't notice that the sun was rising as I paced, and the next time I looked at the clock it was around seven-thirty.

The subtle knowledge that I was now exhausted from pacing, and that my feet and legs ached badly were thrown to the back of my mind as I grabbed a towel and a set of clothes before setting off for the showers. Fifteen minutes later I was dressed in a white t-shirt, a muted orange jacket, a pale green pair of cargo shorts, and a dirty pair of white Converse medium-tops. I towel-dried my hair as I slunk back to my room, my mind still on that odd dream and what the hell it could possibly mean.

My day was mostly boring, but became more exciting at lunch. I had just sat down at one of the tables in the dining hall with my containers from Panda Express when the chair across from mine was pulled out and that delightful girl who'd been occupying my thoughts like she was an activist on Wall Street sat down. Her beautiful eyes sparkled with glee as she set her food in front of her, a croissant and a latte.

"Hello, Gilbert," she said cheerily.

I smiled back and answered warmly, "Hello, Lizzie."

She pried the fork out of my hand and pulled one of my containers across the small table, helping herself to some of my vegetables. "Thanks," she said with a cheeky little smirk.

I scrunched my face up in a wry little quirk as I answered, "No problem." I snuck my hand across the table and took her croissant, biting into the flaky bread and smirking back at her.

"Anyway," she began, rolling her eyes. "I have to catch you up in History, now don't I?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "What'd I miss."

"A rousing lecture on the Teuton Knights. Y'see-"

"You've got a bit of..." I said, pointing to a bit of sauce to the side of her mouth.

She stopped and grabbed a napkin, wiping at her face but missing it every time. "No- not there. There," I insisted, pointing.

She tried and failed a number of times before she glared at me, "You're not helping you know."

"Fine, c'mere, I'll get it," I said, motioning her over.

Elizabeta stood and walked around the table as I stood to meet her. Instead of wiping it, I kissed her there, then moved to her lips when it was gone. She leaned into me, her hands gripping mine as she tilted her head up. I felt her fingers heat up and glimpsed a look at her beet-red face. I'd be lying if I said she wasn't cute.

"Ahem."

We broke apart, slightly guiltily, and looked toward the maker of the sound. The familiar blonde hair and blue eyes of my younger brother looked back at me, judgemental as always. "Really, Gilbert?" He asked.

"Uh, Liz, this is my brother, Ludwig. Luddy, this beautiful girl is Elizabeta," I said, slightly awkwardly as she slipped her hands away from mine and blushed at Ludwig.

"Nice to meet you, Ludwig."

My brother smiled at her and nodded, "And you, Elizabeta." He turned to me and glared as he said, "I heard you skipped class."

I scowled ruefully, "How'd you figure that out so fast?"

"Grandpa is in contact with all your teachers and he's told me to yell at you," Ludwig answered, obviously exasperated by the situation.

"It won't happen again. I'm taking this seriously. I want to stay here," I said truthfully.

"Why did you come here anyway?" Elizabeta asked, looking towards us curiously.

"Gilbert had a bit of trouble focussing on schoolwork at his last school, so he was sent here to get away from distractions. I was sent to keep an eye on him."

She giggled, a hand over her mouth, before she said, "That sounds like him."

"Moving on-"

"No, Gil, I wanna hear more," Lizzie said and elbowed me in the side, prompting her and my brother to sit down and talk about me, while I supervised to make sure he didn't embarrass me too much.

After lunch, I had a required general maths class, which was at the far end of campus. It was off the disused servants quarters, a common room that used to hold meetings for the grounds staff. I sat down three rows back, near the center of the room, since the only other seat was directly in front of the teacher's desk.

The teacher, an ancient old man with a long, Eastern-European sounding name, began his lecture. I found myself ignoring his speech on variables and statistics, instead I let my eyes count his wrinkles and wispy, white hairs. Before I even knew it I was nodding off again.


End file.
